


On The House

by DoctorV



Series: Archive: Doc's Old-Ass Fake News Fic (Daily Show, Colbert Report, etc.) [8]
Category: Fake News FPF, The Colbert Report, The Daily Show
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crappy Jobs, Domestic Fluff, Drunken Flirting, Drunkenness, Established Relationship, M/M, Suggestive Cocktails
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-16
Updated: 2018-03-16
Packaged: 2019-03-31 23:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,349
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13985883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorV/pseuds/DoctorV
Summary: Stephen's evening starts with a Shitty Day Cocktail from the handsome bartender and ends with the bartender taking him home.





	On The House

**Author's Note:**

> Archiving some old old OLD fanfic of mine. This was originally posted to LiveJournal 04/13/2009, with the author's note:  
> "Sort of a blue-collar AU. Stephen works for Mr. Goodwrench, Jon is a bartender. Shenanigans!"

The soft groan alerted Jon to his presence and he grinned at the multicolored bottles all along the back wall. Grabbing his bar-wiping cloth, he turned and began wiping the bar next to the dark-haired man whose face was buried in his crossed arms atop the bar.

 

Biting back his grin, he asked sympathetically, "Long day, Colber _T_?"

 

The man tilted his head so enough of an eye was visible to glare at him for pronouncing the "T." "Automobiles are the Devil's own invention, _Leibowitz_ ," he replied, voice muffled by the fabric of his sleeves.

 

Jon chuckled and crossed his own arms on the bar, leaning forward. "Aw, is Mr. Goodwrench being a douche again?"

 

"Mr. Goodwrench can go fuck himself." Sitting up, Stephen adjusted his skewed glasses and groaned again. "As can anyone who thinks they know how to do my job better than _I_ do. I _think_ I know a little more about how to make a car go than someone who can't even pronounce _fuselage_ , much less identify what it goes in."

 

Giving the man's arm a quick pat, Jon turned away to grab a glass. "One of _those_ days."

 

Stephen's mouth tilted up a little at the side. "One of those."

 

"Well...you know what _that_ means."

 

Lifting an eyebrow in confusion, Stephen slowly said, "Nooo...?"

 

Jon triumphantly held up the glass he'd been fussing over and set it on the bar, then plunked a cheery toothpick umbrella on top. Pushing it toward Stephen, he grinned. "It means a Shitty Day Cocktail."

 

Staring at him for a moment, a wide grin stretched across Stephen's mouth, soon accompanied by a laugh. The cocktail was in one of the more oddly-shaped glasses and contained a veritable _rainbow_ of alcohol.

 

"Oh! Almost forgot." With a flourish, Jon pulled out the plastic crazy-straw he kept just for Stephen. Smiling as he dipped it into the glass, he added, "On the house."

 

Stephen's affectionate grin was payment enough.

 

\---------------

 

Stephen's head was pillowed in his arms again and, confused, Jon counted the glasses surrounding the man as he cleaned up. His math was coming out wrong.

 

When he started removing the glasses, the clatter and clink startled Stephen, who sat up abruptly. "Mongoose!"

 

Peering at the man, Jon suddenly bit his lip to fight back a laugh. "You're _shitfaced_ ," he accused.

 

Stephen slowly lifted an index finger to point upwards and slightly in Jon's direction. " _I_..." he said gravely, then paused to think it over. "Yes."

 

Chuckling, Jon asked, " _How_ ? I know I didn't give you enough to get you _drunk_."

 

A thoughtful look crossed Stephen's face and he glanced at one of the glasses still on the bar. "Might've been the Zombie," he said. "Or the Clockwork Tangerine."

 

Jon opened his mouth to reply, but Stephen continued musingly, "And maybe the Legspreader."

 

Staring at him, Jon slowly said, "Uh, I didn't give you _any_ of those."

 

"Well it would've been _rude_ to...not to accept."

 

Biting his lip again, Jon gave him a hangdog look. "You've been drinking another man's booze?" he asked tragically.

 

Inebriated as he was, Stephen didn't pick up on the subtle signs of teasing...such as Jon's difficulty keeping a straight face. Lunging slightly, he grabbed at Jon's hand where it lay on the bar. Holding it with one hand and petting Jon's arm with the other, Stephen's face was hilariously earnest. "Nonononono-- _Jon_! You _know_ you're the only bartender for me! They were just so _colorful_ , I'm _weak_."

 

Jon rolled his eyes, smiling. Stephen was rubbing his arm hair the wrong way, but he let it go. "You know you're terrible at knowing your limit."

 

Bowing his head over Jon's hand until his forehead touched the back of it, Stephen replied, "I knooow. I promise I'll never stray again!"

 

Finally giving in and giggling, Jon ruffled Stephen's hair affectionately. "Let me finish cleaning up and I'll take you home, you lush."

 

Stephen lifted his head to leer at him. "For a Southern Screw?"

 

"For _sleep_ ," Jon chuckled as he wiped down the bar. "I'd hate to feel like I was taking advantage of you."

 

Stephen pouted.

 

"But if you're up to it, I'm sure a Sex With The Bartender could be arranged tomorrow morning...."

 

Beaming at him as he continued to pet Jon's arm, Stephen said, "You are hairy like a werewolf, Jon."

 

Jon knew him well enough to know what he really meant.

 

* * *

 

Stephen was handsy all the way to Jon's apartment, but Jon had enough experience with the man in various states of inebriation to successfully maneuver him.

 

Once Jon got him in bed, Stephen attempted to take Jon's shirt with him, but his coordination was too off to manage it. When Stephen pouted at his failure, Jon sighed and removed the shirt himself, tossing it aside.

 

"Seriously, Colber _T_ ," he said. "How many times do I have to tell you? Sugar doesn't cancel out alcohol. It just makes it taste _sweet_."

 

" _You're_ sweet," Stephen accused. When Jon just gave him a bemused smile, he pressed his face to the pillow. "Shut up."

 

Jon chuckled and leaned over him to remove the man's glasses. "As you wish," he said, setting the glasses aside.

 

"Farm boy...fetch me that pitcher," Stephen murmured, reaching up toward him.

 

Turning back to the man, Jon pressed a short kiss to Stephen's lips and smiled at him. "Why didn't you wait for me?"

 

"You were busy."

 

"Busyness cannot stop true love, all it can do is delay it for a while."

 

Flinging an arm out as he flopped onto his back, Stephen sighed dramatically, "I will never doubt again."

 

Rolling his eyes, Jon hoped Stephen would get over his obsession with _The Princess Bride_ soon. It was one thing for _Stephen_ to be able to quote whole chunks of it, it was a horse of an entirely different color when _Jon_ got dragged into it. "There will never be a need."

 

"My _hero_!" Stephen gushed. "Now kiss me such as to leave all other kisses since the _invention_ of the kiss behind!"

 

Jon gave Stephen's forehead a quick peck and headed for the door. Behind him, Stephen laughed.

 

" _Eat it_ five most passionate and pure kisses!"

 

* * *

 

When Jon returned with a glass of water and some aspirin, Stephen had dozed off. Careful not to wake the man, Jon stripped to his underwear and slid into bed next to him. Stephen, still asleep, snuggled up to him and began snoring softly against Jon's shoulder.

 

Jon smiled and closed his eyes.

 

It was a fairly typical night for them, minus Stephen being sloshed. Stephen came to the bar after work, stayed until Jon's shift ended, and they both ended up at Jon's apartment. In the morning, Stephen would make breakfast because Jon apparently couldn't cook grits to save his life, though Jon didn't understand _how_ it was possible to mess up add-water-and-heat no matter _how_ much Stephen claimed he had. Sex would usually factor into their morning routine somewhere, in the shower if Stephen was running late. Then Stephen would leave for work, Jon would go back to bed for a few more hours before heading to work himself, and the whole cycle would begin again.

 

It seemed silly that they hadn't just moved in together yet, but Jon kept avoiding the subject.

 

Luckily, Stephen enjoyed teasing Jon about his commitment phobia too much to be upset by it. And Jon was self-aware enough to be embarrassed by his irrational aversion.

 

Stephen was actually considering just moving in without _telling_ Jon, just to see how long it took the man to notice that Stephen never left. The trick would be in not spilling the beans. Hopefully when Jon _did_ notice, enough time would have passed that he would very definitely _be_ committed and the fact that the world _hadn't_ come to a screeching halt and tumbled into the sun would ease the fear a bit.

 

For now, though, Jon drifted off to sleep with Stephen cuddled up to and drooling on him. There was nowhere else he would rather be.


End file.
